


Your Majesty

by divagando



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 02:32:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13988625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divagando/pseuds/divagando
Summary: After not hearing from Obi-Wan for ten days, Anakin's concern is almost unbearable. He's considering going to Mandalore right now to bring his Jedi back.A restless King, an amused Courtier and the myth of the Force.





	Your Majesty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [obikink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obikink/gifts).



> I don't understand royalty and at this point I'm too afraid to ask.
> 
> My dearest friend wanted a royalty AU and I couldn't say no to her pretty face. Also, it's her birthday so I just couldn't refuse.
> 
> Don't expect accuracy with the royal part of this fic, and I'm not a native speaker so I apologize in advance for any mistakes you find. Enjoy!

His own footsteps on dark marble and the delicate murmur of the patio were the only sounds reaching his ears, amplified by the high ceiling of the corridor. In another time he would've found comfort in the unusual absence of people around him, but right now, anyone, or _anything_ , would have been a welcome diversion from his own anxious thoughts. Lately he found serenity only in one place, so he headed that way.

Two months or so had passed since his Jedi and a couple of knights went north to negotiate a peace treaty, and ten days prior he received the last letter informing him of the progress of said reunion. _Things are going well_ , he had said. _I can’t wait to come home._ And he was supposed to be back already, but Anakin hasn't heard of him.

Coruscant was an important ally to anyone thanks to his late mother and her devotion for her people, may the Force be with her, but there were kingdoms more interested in bloodshed and Mandalore was one of them. It was no secret that the near kingdom had always been a war enthusiast, but Obi-Wan insisted on trying, and there was no one who could say no to the man once he set his mind on anything. Not even the King himself. By his own letters, he had proved he was right. He wrote in his letters that Mandalore was changing. Anakin could almost feel his excitement in his handwriting.

His right-hand man, his best friend, his beloved. The older man reddened adoringly any time he called him that way, he even suffused with the current book in his hands. He always had one. No wonder Anakin felt so at peace in the library.

The place was empty, and beautiful as always. Chairs and tables remained untouched, and the light coming from the big windows above the numerous shelves casted an air of calm solitude. He grabbed a random book from the shelves and tried to relax, and failed. His own pondering was too loud, preventing him from concentrating enough on the story. Unable to lose himself in the life of twin warriors and masked evildoers, he let his mind wander with no restraint this time, while completely lying on the red couch.

The flawless faces on the vault smiled down at him, whispering the tales of the Force. The Light, the Dark, the Prophecy. He followed the gold thread that wove through different events and became tangled in the hands of people across the expanse of the dazzling paintings. He saw it turn silver in some, black in others, but he never stopped looking, always in awe of the excellent work and care the artists put in them, even before his mother ruled.

He could see himself decades ago, walking in this place for the first time right after his mom, and being drawn to it. Mother turned back to check on him only to find his neck exposed and eyes lost in beauty. He could also recall hundreds of afternoons spent in there, on that same couch, and having his hair combed with warm, calloused hands, while he took turns being fascinated at the ceiling and the gray eyes dancing side to side, reading. He’d look until he’d got caught, and then a sweet smile would warm his insides, and a kiss would be granted if they were alone.

Was he sound? Was he safe? He couldn’t leave to find him, his people needed him even if the current festival was keeping them occupied, but oh, Anakin was tempted. He’d take a horse and a few men, and fight his way to reach him if necessary. The battle would be over once he freed his lover, their enemies would fall at their feet, wounded from both warriors wielding their swords like one, and the fierce kiss he’d give him would draw blood, an echo of the fallen.

He missed him.

With nothing else to do, he did what he had been doing for the past few days: he prayed the Force to keep him well. _Bring him back to me, I beg you._ _Please_. And then he closed his eyes.

It felt like blinking. When consciousness came to him, Obi-Wan was right there, kneeling and wearing a tender smile.

“I must be dreaming,” he said, still dazed with sleep, looking at his left.

With a snort, the older man weaved his fingers through his tangled hair and kissed his nose. “It pleases me that you consider me _dreamy_ , Your Majesty.”

He couldn’t believe it. “You’re here,” he whispered sitting up and then repeated, overjoyed. He drank this vision like a man lost in the desert. His chest swelled up with happiness and the urge to kiss left him powerless to ask for an explanation. Every concern and question left his mind to be replaced by the immense bliss he felt, a lightheartedness he hasn't reached until then. But his body continued to feel anxious and desperate and it showed.

Their touch was as soft as the velvet under his hands, from the tailcoat Obi-Wan was wearing, but it wasn’t enough. Anakin whined and bit, searching for a reaction from the collected man he loved. He needed to be taken. When he was pushed to lay as before, he growled in the back of his throat, content with being manhandled. Obi-Wan climbed on top of him, rolling his hips and earning a moan from his King, and grinned like he wanted to eat him alive. Anakin would let him.

Obi-Wan pulled his hair to chastely kiss him behind his ear, and kissed him open-mouthed next. His tongue stroking his own made him shiver and moan louder. Unsatisfied with how close they already were, Anakin kept pushing him down on himself and meeting him with shallow thrusts.

Obi-Wan raised himself on his elbows then, completely out of breath but his slow thrusts didn't falter. The vault beamed behind his head, with the dim light coming from the end of the day outside. He knew this man belonged right there, with legends and mythical beings; he often felt like he was borrowed. Like this world with him was a lovely dream.

He needed him. It went both ways. With trembling hands he started to fiddle with his zipper but Anakin was still high on his nap and seeing his lover after two months so he kept stroking him through his pants and forgetting the zipper altogether. Gasping, Obi-Wan reached for the back of the couch and pushed the book Anakin was reading earlier on the man's face by accident.  The spell was broken in an instant, and they laughed.

“I can’t fuck you here, Anakin.” Obi-Wan pursed his lips right after saying it, trying to hold back his giggling.

“Don’t be so crude, Master” he answered back after a gasp and an equally fake rub of his forehead.

Obi-Wan’s thumb started toying with Anakin’s wet bottom lip. He stilled his laughter and looked at the man under him like he was the sun. Like he was everything that mattered. Anakin was lost. “I’m not your Master anymore.”

“And we _can_ fuck here. You’re just clumsy because you're tired.” With a pout, he sat up again and tilted his head, finally savoring the sight of his Jedi in his arms. His face was clean of bruises and cuts. He continued, “Things turned out fine, then?”

“Were you worried, Anakin?” The corner of his lips lifted in a smirk but his eyes were soft.

Anakin chewed on his lip for a moment, unsure of coming clean. “I always worry.”

Obi-Wan admired the ways of the Jedi, the people that went extinct, the myths. He didn't have the Force that old books talked about and paintings showed in canvases, no one did anymore, but he, like many people in Coruscant, believed. It was a thing of hope, he had said. Anakin respected it. But the inadequacy crept onto him every time he learned something about them. Fear leads to the Dark side, he once read aloud. If he'd tried to be a Jedi, he would have failed miserably. He was sure of that. He believed in the Force, but he wasn't so sure the Jedi were his thing. A stupid voice in the back of his head always reminded him of Obi-Wan’s devotion for these selfless, benign figures, and how far away from that he was.

Sensing his thoughts, as expected, Obi-Wan stood up and urged Anakin with a hand to put his feet down and let him sit beside him. He knew him too well. Taking his former student’s hand in both of his, the same one that learned from him how to wield a sword and lead an army years ago. “I worry just as much as you do. I am human, dear one. Like you.”

Kisses landed on his knuckles, some on rings, then on his palm. Then, his wrist, where his flesh was tender. “I missed you.”

“I know” was what he murmured to his hand, his breath tickling him. It was all Anakin needed.

After a comfortable silence, Obi-Wan got up again and extended his hand. “I have so much to tell you about my journey, Your Majesty. How about we take this matter to your room?”

Anakin took his hand and they walked through the giant doors together. Everything was in place. “You better start with your delay. I almost went to Mandalore to retrieve you myself. You could have started a _war_ , Obi-Wan!”

“So impatient. I encountered some internal disagreements in Mandalore and the Duchess asked for my help, I thought it would take us less time to solve it but my calculations were wrong,” he explained right before they reached the stairs.

“Always the hero.”

“Barely. And that's you, dear. All I did was talk.”

Anakin stopped in the landing of the stairs, and tried to hide his sly smile. “Should I be worried about this Duchess of yours?”

That got him a kiss. “Should I be jealous of the Queen of Naboo?”

With matching smiles, they climbed the steps again. “Are you tired, my Jedi?”

“Not when it comes you, my Lord.”

 


End file.
